


Marks

by CaptainWeasley



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bloodplay, Consensual Kink, Cutting, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Knifeplay, Period Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 07:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19291123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainWeasley/pseuds/CaptainWeasley
Summary: After Rose and the Meta-Crisis Doctor start their new life together, Rose realises that there is something missing from her skin, something that only her Doctor can give her.





	Marks

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU of sorts for my story [Life Among The Distant Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19284157/chapters/45863884), running with an idea mentioned in chapter 14. If you don’t want to read LATDS, all you need to know is that in that story, Rose used to self-harm by cutting after Canary Wharf.   
> I feel like bloodplay is a bit out of character for both the Doctor and Rose, so I didn't put it into the main story, but this kink is so fascinating that I simply had to explore the idea in writing. Also, I have no idea how Gallifreyan works, so I just made up a bunch of terms.

The Doctor's kisses on her neck were by no means forceful enough to leave marks, but as soon as the mental image had entered Rose's mind, it stuck with her. There was something so primal about it which made it even more exciting. Until now, only the loss of the Doctor had left its marks on her body, wouldn't it be fitting if their reunion did the same? She imagined it: lines on her skin that had nothing to do with pain and grief, lines that were left by love and passion. Lines that would always prove the Doctor had touched her, no matter what happened. Rose shivered at the thought, the kind of shiver that made her heart beat faster, that settled right between her legs and cried out for the Doctor to be closer. 

Rose didn't tell the Doctor about her thoughts just then, brushed them off as a nice fantasy. She still had to get used to the mere presence of the Doctor, still half-expected him to disappear when she wasn't looking. She didn't want to ask anything of him for which their relationship was not ready. 

** 

The first time they had sex, Rose didn't think about knives or cuts or blood at all. Only when she lay curled up in the Doctor's arms afterwards did her thoughts return to that particular fantasy. This time, she decided to broach the subject. She didn't see any point in continuing to hide these thoughts from the Doctor. After all, the Doctor could always refuse to do it, and Rose fully expected he would. 

"Doctor?" 

"Mh?" 

She thought for a moment about how to best phrase her request. 

"I had an idea that might sound a bit weird." 

"Well, you're talking to the right person," the Doctor said. "I've had plenty of weird ideas." 

Rose couldn't help but grin. 

"My idea has less to do with saving the world and more with sex. Don't know if your expertise in weird ideas stretches that far." 

The Doctor's eyes widened slightly for a moment. 

"You're never too old to learn," he said then, mischief in his smile. "What's your idea?" 

"When I first told you about my scars," Rose began, "I think I didn't really mention that I cut myself most frequently when I had the least hope of seeing you again. Losing you literally left marks on my body." 

The Doctor frowned slightly, apparently not sure what she was getting at. 

"So I thought, why shouldn't our reunion also leave marks? There'd be a beautiful symmetry in that." 

The Doctor's frown deepened. 

"You want me to cut you?" 

Rose loved how quick on the uptake he was. 

"Only if you want." 

"I'm not sure I can do that." 

Rose nodded. 

"That's what I thought you'd say. Well, think about it. Doesn't have to be today." 

She gave him a kiss, soft as a sigh. Of course it was possible he'd never warm up to the idea, but what a shame that would be. The longer Rose thought about it, the more intriguing the fantasy seemed to become. 

** 

"Just say, for the sake of argument, that I'd be willing to do it." 

Rose looked up from the half-finished email she was writing to her boss. 

"Do what?" 

"Cutting you. How would that work?" 

Rose was suddenly completely focused on the conversation at hand. The email could wait. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Everything. The logistics of it. Would that be during sex, or before, or after? Which part of your body are we talking about? Is it supposed to be straight lines or a specific shape? What about risk of infection? Treating a cut doesn't sound very sexually appealing to me." 

Rose felt a bit overwhelmed. She had never actually planned that far, afraid of getting her hopes up. Getting her hopes up hadn't served her well in the past. 

"Before sex, I think" she began slowly, trying to remember all of his questions. "I'm not sure about the body part. I like the idea of having scars on my back, but if you cut my back I can't watch you... I'll have to think about that. Infection shouldn't be a problem if we sterilize everything beforehand. Never had an issue with my thighs. As far as shapes go, I'm not too bothered. As long as you're not drawing Thomas the Tank Engine on my body or something..." 

She grinned at him and the Doctor actually laughed, although Rose suspected that was more because of nerves and less because of her joke. 

"How about an Ood? Your personal Ood to carry around with you?" 

Rose couldn't help but laugh as well. 

"Maybe that spinning Christmas tree." Her laughter gave way to an affectionate smile. "First time you saved me after you regenerated." 

"Nah, that would just look like a triangle. We can think bigger. Like the demon of Krop Tor, that picture could fill your whole back." 

"The horns on my shoulders? Perfect. Next alien race I come into contact with, I'll just show them my back and they'll be off." 

"Oh, please make sure I'm there for that, that interaction I've _got_ to see." 

They both started laughing again. Even though they were just joking around, Rose knew that it was impossible for the Doctor to be completely opposed to the idea. Not only had he thought about her suggestion and come up with detailed questions, he had also taken initiative in talking about the subject. It might take a while for them to get around to the actual cutting, but Rose was sure that they were on the right track. 

** 

"This might be a little self-indulgent, but what do you think about a Gallifreyan symbol?" 

"Like your name?" 

Rose said it without even thinking. As soon as he'd made that suggestion, it had become crystal clear to her that that was what she wanted: his name on her skin, part of her flesh like the Doctor was part of her soul. 

"Mh, that could be difficult," the Doctor mused. "My name is written in five full-circles and four ad-circles, that would take... quite some time." 

"Well, I'm hoping we'll have a few years at least." 

They looked at each other. 

"You're really okay with the whole process taking _years_?" 

Rose wasn't quite sure if she saw awe in the Doctor's eyes, or if he was thinking she'd lost her mind. Maybe it was a little bit of both. 

"Yeah, I am. If I get to wear your name on my skin, then yes. Absolutely." 

"Can't believe I never noticed how absolutely bonkers you are." 

The Doctor's affectionate tone belied his words, and Rose grinned at him. 

"You're stuck with me," she told him for the second time in her life. "Ha!" 

He gently cupped her cheek with one hand, the tips of his long fingers soft against her skin. 

"Stuck with you, that's not so bad." 

Rose leaned towards him, focusing on his beautiful brown eyes that were looking at her with a kind of vulnerable honesty that he had rarely ever shown her back in their old life. 

"Think that's my line," she whispered before she kissed him. 

No matter how many times her lips touched his, the sensation would always remain a wonder to Rose. Kissing the Doctor was like nothing else in this world, the way his mouth opened against hers, that little thing he always did with his tongue, just the taste of him was better than anything she could ever have imagined. 

She pictured that very same tongue licking drops of blood off her body; drops of blood rolling down from the circles of his name stopped in their tracks by that wonderful, clever tongue. A shiver went through her whole body, making her dizzy for a moment. Rose couldn't say what exactly it was that made this particular fantasy so exquisite. Maybe it was the intimacy of picturing the Doctor doing something she would never let another person do, or maybe it was something baser. Something deep within in her insisted that her body and soul belonging to the Doctor meant that her blood was his as well. She wanted him to mark her, and she also wanted him to cherish every single drop of blood that was spilled in the process. 

Rose shivered again, pulling the Doctor closer. Snogging on the sofa would not be enough right now. 

"You, me, bed, now," was all she said, and then she didn't need to say anything else for a while. 

** 

The first time the Doctor tasted Rose's blood took place barely a week later, and not from a cut on her skin as Rose had planned. 

"You want to take this to the bedroom?" The Doctor was whispering into her ear, after they had stood around in the kitchen for at least 20 minutes, snogging. A spark travelled down Rose's spine in the best possible way. 

"I'd love to," she sighed, "but I'm on my period." 

"So it wouldn't feel good for you?" 

Rose was a little taken aback by the question, even though she couldn't really put her finger on the reason why. After all, the question was valid, especially considering it was coming from someone who didn't have a lot of experience with human sexuality. 

"No, I'm sure it would feel good. I just wouldn't want you to—" 

Rose stopped herself mid-sentence, suddenly realising what had given her pause. His first thought had been to ask if she would be uncomfortable. The Doctor apparently wasn't concerned with getting a bit of blood on himself, like her previous boyfriends had been. 

"To what?" 

Rose looked at him, heart beating fast in her chest. 

"The blood wouldn't bother you?" 

"Should it?" 

She almost laughed. How had she ever had sex with people other than the Doctor? Rose honestly didn't know how she had been able to stand it. Of course, she had never known the Doctor back then. 

"No, no. It's just that some humans make a big deal out of it, and I thought... Well, if it doesn't bother you, come on." 

Rose grinned and took his hand, practically dragging him into the other room, even remembering to grab a towel in order to avoid ruining the bed sheet. 

Back when they'd travelled together, Rose had fantasised quite frequently about the Doctor using his tongue on her, particularly after having to watch him lick wooden doors and the like. One of the best things she had found out about the Doctor since he had joined her in this universe was that the way his tongue felt on her skin was a thousand times better than she had imagined. It hadn't taken him long to work out what Rose liked, how to make her come after a few minutes or drag out her pleasure until she was begging helplessly. 

This time, that knowledge came in handy once more. 

The Doctor made Rose writhe and shudder under his ministrations, her moans turning into _Oh Doctor_ and _I love you_ and _Please don't stop_. Her eyes had fallen shut at some point, she couldn't have said when; her hands were gripping the bed sheet as her body quivered; there didn't seem to be enough oxygen in the air. The Doctor's hands were on Rose's hips, steadying her as his tongue slid easily between her folds, dipping into her wetness, and an undignified mewl escaped Rose's lips. 

"Please, Doctor," she whimpered, desperate for release. 

He teased her a few moments longer, then finally gave her what she wanted, flicking his tongue against her clit _just so_ , and Rose came with a drawn-out cry, her whole body shaking. The Doctor caressed her legs as her orgasm subsided, gently kissing her slick folds, and Rose felt like her heart would burst with everything she felt for him. 

When she opened her eyes again, the Doctor was smiling at her, head propped up against one of her legs, and Rose could see her own blood on his lips, around his mouth, on his chin, even a smudge on his nose. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she couldn't stop staring. 

"Everything okay?" 

Rose was still staring at the red marks on the Doctor's face. 

"That is so hot," she managed to say. 

The Doctor looked at her strangely. 

"It's not like this is the first time we've done this." 

Rose shook her head slowly, feeling like someone had hit her over the head with a heavy object. 

"No, I mean the blood. On your face. That is _so fucking hot_." 

She could see the Doctor catching on, his facial expression changing from puzzled to intrigued. 

"That so," he said, smugness in his voice. "Anything else you'd like to see covered in blood?" 

"Oh god, yes." 

** 

The first time the Doctor finally cut into her skin, a few inches above her heart, Rose didn't even watch it happen. She only wanted to see the Doctor's face: there was determined concentration there, a healthy dose of curiosity, and something else in his eyes, something she could not quite place. 

The new, razor-thin blade didn't feel like the knife she had always used to cut herself. This was a cut that took a few moments to manifest, a cut that didn't even really hurt at first. It wasn't a full circle yet, just a curved line that had the potential to form a circle at some point in the future. 

The Doctor watched her skin with interest, and Rose imagined a single drop of blood forming slowly. She didn't look down to check. It was becoming clear to her what the expression in his eyes meant, and she couldn't look away from him now, never wanted to see anything else in his eyes when he looked at her. Like he was claiming her as his own. A few years ago she would have been annoyed by it; she had seen a similar look on too many faces of her mother's boyfriends to associate anything good with it. Then she had lost the Doctor and with the loss came the realisation that she belonged to him, that her soul was his whether she wanted it to be or not, that every step she took was for him, every one of her heartbeats a song in his name. 

And now, finally, after horribly lonely years, the Doctor was marking her as his, was writing his love into her skin, his promise of growing old together, his belief that this would last. His eyes said _You are mine as I am yours_ , and _Forever_ , and _I love you_. 

Afterwards, Rose rode the Doctor with abandon, the cut on her chest aching every time her hips crashed down to meet his. Pain and pleasure mingled into something that made her head feel strangely floaty, and everything she wanted to tell him turned into groans and grunts in her mouth. 

_I am yours as you are mine_ , she wanted to say, and _Forever_ , and _I love you_. 

** 

"What do you think?" 

Rose was looking at herself in the mirror, mesmerized. The first full-circle was finally complete, the lines already fading where the Doctor had first started to draw them. 

The Doctor moved to stand behind her, pressing a gentle kiss into her hair, the smooth fabric of his button-down brushing up against her bare back. 

"I think I still can't believe that we're actually doing this." 

Rose chuckled. 

"And I think all of this will be gone in a week if we just let it heal." 

He closed his arms around her waist and pulled her closer towards him. Rose leaned back into his embrace, smiling at him in the mirror. 

"So, you're saying I should draw this circle again before going on to the next?" 

The Doctor's voice was soft and low in her ear, making Rose's skin tingle. 

"That is most definitely what I am saying." 

He lifted his right hand to trace the circle on her chest, and his touch felt like sparks on her skin. Rose shuddered at the sensation; her eyes fell closed. She was glad she was leaning against the Doctor already, because she suddenly felt weak on her feet. 

"Don't stop," she sighed. 

Obligingly, the Doctor traced the circle again, trailing small kisses along her neck and shoulder. Rose was shaking, and she could feel tears running down her face. The Doctor seemed to notice those as well a few moments later, started at the sight, and immediately stopped touching her. 

"Rose, are you alright? Did I hurt you?" 

Rose shook her head weakly, momentarily unable to speak. 

"I am so sorry," the Doctor continued, apparently horrified, "I wanted to do it but I knew I shouldn't have, I am so, _so_ sorry, Rose, if I'd—" 

"What on Earth are you on about?" 

Rose had found her voice again, thankfully, even though she now sounded like she had a bad head cold. 

They looked at each other in the mirror, confusion clearly visible on both their faces. 

"You were crying, and I thought..." 

Rose suddenly understood why he had been apologising. 

"You thought you'd done something wrong," she softly finished his sentence. "Oh Doctor. You daft man." 

He looked even more confused now, and Rose took the hand he had let fall down to his side, interlacing her fingers with his and bringing it back up to her chest. 

"I'm crying because I'm happy," Rose continued. "I am so happy, Doctor." 

"Oh," was all he said, and Rose could see the emotions flitting across his face: realisation, embarrassment, delight, love. 

She let go of his hand so that she could turn around and bury her head in the crook of his neck, closing her arms around him. 

"I really want nothing more than to stay like this all day," she said quietly, "but I need to get ready for work. Rain check on the cuddling?" 

She could hear the smile in the Doctor's voice when he answered. 

"You got it." 

He caressed her back gently, and Rose dreaded the moment she would have to let him go. 

"And Rose?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I am so happy, too."


End file.
